


Practically Perfect

by immoral_crow



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Nanny, How many songs can you spot?, Kid Fic, M/M, Mary Poppins AU, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immoral_crow/pseuds/immoral_crow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a single parent is always a challenge - especially when you are Director of SHIELD. Faced with a hyper-intelligent and overly energetic five year old, Nick Fury discovers that hiring a nanny might be the only option. Unfortunately this is easier said than done, until The Mary Poppins Agency (Practically Perfect in Every Way - Super Nannies our speciality) sends out Phil Coulson. Will he make the Perfect Nanny? Or will it turn into a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious mess?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practically Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Lionheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lionheart/gifts).



> A gift for The_Lionheart for the Lump of Coul exchange. With my most grateful thanks to my beta readers, Selori and Shaded-Sun. Without them Nick Fury would be a very correct English gentleman for possibly the first time in his life, and this fic would have about 300% fewer commas. Any remaining mistakes are, of course, my own.

Nick wasn’t quite sure why he’d ever thought that being a single dad would be easy. Maybe he never had – to be perfectly frank, a year’s worth of sleep deprivation could do odd things to a man and the sorts of rational decisions he’d made in the good old days were a long-forgotten dream.

Not that he’d be without Mikel – God forbid! He loved his son, couldn’t imagine life without him. And he was proud of him – of course he damn well was. The boy was smarter than anyone else in the preschool class he went to – even the idiot teacher had to acknowledge that when she met with Nick that afternoon to explain that Mikel was a “disruptive element” who “needed more guidance and one-to-one support” than the group could provide.

It was just that sometimes, occasionally, Nick wished that the fizzing ball of energetic curiosity that masqueraded as a human child would calm down and go the fuck to sleep. It wouldn’t solve everything – it would barely solve _anything_ – but it might mean that he could finish this phone call without being used as a climbing frame at least.

“Hill. You’re going to have to repeat that.” He glowered a warning at Mikel as he pulled him off of his head and tried to drop him on the floor. It made no difference – the kid clung like Spiderman when he wanted to, and dangled from Nick’s arm, giggling like this was the best game ever.

“I said we’re getting some reports about unusual activity in the Hydra cell in Cuba, and…”

“Arrrgh!” Nick swiped at the coffee that Mikel had knocked over onto him, grateful it was just hot and not scalding. “Get off me, you damn menace.”

Mikel looked at him and dropped to the floor, his lower lip wobbling in prelude to what Nick feared would be a tantrum of epic proportions. He had to give it to the kid – his talent for emotional manipulation would put most SHIELD agents to shame.

“Do you need any help, sir?” Even over the crappy cell phone he could hear the fear in Hill’s voice. She was obviously terrified that he’d do something truly terrible – send her to Alaska maybe, or, worse still, ask her to babysit.

“I need a fucking nanny,” he said, as Mikel let out a heartbroken wail. “Seriously, the life I lead? I need someone else who can deal with this shit.”

He could hear the relief in Maria’s sigh. “Is that all? I thought you might want to talk about feeli-”

“Why the fuck would you think that?”

She barked out a laugh. “I have no idea, sir. Feelings aren’t really my thing.” She paused a second. “I might be able to help with the nanny though, or at least I can set up some interviews for you. We do have nanny agencies on our books after all.”

“Do I want to know why we’ve got nanny agencies on our books?” Nick frowned at Mikel. The kid had stopped crying, but only because he had found some crayons to play with. Of course, he was drawing on the back of a draft memo, but Nick could care less provided he was quiet. “It’ll be something to do with Barton, won’t it?”

“Not this time,” Hill said. “Remember when we had concerns about the research that Professor Stanley was doing last year?”

“Yeah.” He checked on Mikel, who was chewing thoughtfully on the end of a sky blue crayon. “We sent in Widow, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Hill said. “Anyway, he had young twins and the easiest way we could get Widow access to him was by placing her as an _au pair_.”

“Seriously?” Nick tried his best to repress his laughter, because Romanov found out about shit like that. “I don’t remember hearing anything about _au pairs_.”

“Yeah.” He could hear the smile in Hill’s voice. “It was her condition of doing it – that we kept how she’d got access under wraps.”

An unbidden image of Romanov working with children floated across Nick’s mind, and he forced himself to repress a shudder. “I can imagine.”

“And on that note, whoever you get will have to be vetted.”

“In case anyone has the same idea we did, you mean?”

Hill hummed in agreement. “It’d be the perfect opportunity to get close to you, and if they took Mikel they’d have leverage over you.”

She was right, Nick knew. Even without the big players like AIM and Hydra, there were far too many independents who would jump at the chance to be able to control SHIELD. “The workers for this agency are vetted already?”

“They are, yeah. We needed to do it before sending Widow in, and it was a useful tool, so we kept it on in case we could use it again.”

“Excellent.” Nick pulled the crayon out of Mikel’s hand before he ate any more of it. “Can you email me over a list of resumes to check?”

“You’ll have them within the hour,” Hill said, and Nick could have sighed with relief.

He didn’t though, and hung up without replying. Mikel’s face lit up and, his earlier woe forgotten, he clambered up on Nick.

“Wha’s a nanny, Daddy?” he asked, rubbing his crayon-covered hands over Nick’s clean shirt.

“Someone who can look after you when I’m not around,” Nick said, grabbing a wet wipe and doing his best to repair the damage.

Mikel frowned. “But, why can’t it be you Daddy? I like it when you look after me.”

“Daddy needs to work, you know that.”

“What about Mommy?”

The kid’s eyes look suspiciously bright and Nick put his arms around his son.

“We talked about this,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “Mommy is on a long vacation at the moment, and she loves you very much, but she isn’t able to look after you right now.”

He tried to keep the venom from his voice. The kid was only four after all, and how the hell was he meant to explain that his mother decided that her future lay in Hydra?

Maybe he should have been around more, but it hadn’t been like they’d been in a real relationship. A one-night stand was not a relationship, and he’d only found out what she had planned when she’d vanished from the house he’d bought her in Carpasia, taking Mikel with her.

It had taken three months to find them, and when he had, he’d had no compunction in taking Mikel back. He’d justified it to SHIELD that he hadn’t wanted her to turn Mikel into a weapon that could be used against SHIELD (or against him), but really, no matter how brutal and cold the decisions were that he had to make daily as part of his job, he couldn’t stomach seeing any child having their future stripped away from them – much less his own son.

He’d decided then, that whatever Mikel became, whatever he did or wanted to do with his life, that he would do so of his own free will.

“Why don’t you draw me a picture of the nanny?” he asked, pulling a sheet of paper from the printer for Mikel to use, and filching back the memo that was now covered with pictures of puppies. At least that was what Nick thought they were. They could always be moose. Or dragons.

He considered the idea of a nanny as Mikel drew his picture. Overall he thought he liked the idea.

The preschool was too unpredictable. They’d done their best to vet everyone, but new children started all the time and it was chaotic. A nanny would give some stability. They’d enforce the rules, know where Mikel was – who he was with.

With the right person looking after Mikel, Nick could relax, reassured that no one was using his son to get close to him.

“Wanna see my picture?” Mikel looked up hopefully, and Nick nodded, staring at the colorful splotch.

“What is it?”

“My nanny, silly Daddy.” Mikel looked disappointed. “It’s the perfect nanny, Daddy. They will play all the games, and give me sweets, and always have time to take me to places, and they won’t never be mean, or shouty.”

“That’s a lot to expect from a person,” Nick said, smiling slightly. “It’ll be hard to find anyone like that.”

“You’ll find them though.” Mikel looked at him with perfect trust in his eyes. “You can do anything, Daddy.”

“Huh.” Nick looked at the kid. He was almost trembling with earnestness; Nick felt small and humble in the face of it. “You need to get to bed, young man.”

He came back down after giving Mikel his bath and reading the obligatory bedtime story. Asleep, Mikel looked, for once, like an angel, and Nick had the vague hope that he could use the rest of the evening to catch up on the work he missed after being dragged out of the office by the phone call from preschool this afternoon.

He started to clear the dining room table, the spare socks and bits of paper of family life, and found himself holding Mikel’s picture of the nanny. If the picture was anything to go by, the nanny would have three spindly legs and only one arm. But then he remembered Mikel’s fervent wish about the sweets, and he laughed to himself.

“What does he think I am?” he said. “A fucking magician?” He screwed up the paper and tossed it on the fire. “We’ll never find anyone that good. Demanding little fucker.”

oOo

The interviews proved that he was correct in that assumption.

The resumes had all seemed positive enough: he’d managed to shortlist four that he thought would work out for Mikel. Hill, thank fuck, had even managed to arrange the interviews for the next day.

That was something of a double-edged blessing though. Yes, there was a chance that they would have a new nanny by the end of the day, but until the new nanny was chosen, Nick had to bring Mikel to work with him.

Hill had taken one look and remembered an op she urgently had to oversee – the last Nick had seen of her, she’d been barking orders to get a quinjet to take her to the Yukon.

It wasn’t as if he had even been going to ask her to look after Mikel – he’d come prepared with a packed lunch and enough dot-to-dot coloring books to keep the kid entertained, and set him up at the conference table while Nick got on with dealing with SHIELD’s ever-increasing bureaucratic load.

Seriously, he thought as he started trying to unpick the tangle of debriefing documents from the last Hydra mission, he should employ someone to sort this shit out for him. It just never seemed to be operationally urgent enough to justify the salary – not when they always needed more operatives in the field, when there was more cutting edge equipment to be purchased from Stark, when there were so many damages to pay after every domestic mission.

The problem was that paperwork was easy enough to ignore – right up until it wasn’t, and every other fucker abandoned Nick when that happened.

“Director Fury?” Barton pushed his way into the room. “May and Widow are back from Gdansk and need to debrief.”

Nick looked up, frowning. “So where are they, then?” he asked. “And that the fuck are you doing here? I can’t hear their reports if I can’t see them, and last time I checked you weren’t my fucking PA.”

“In medical,” Barton said, looking almost apologetic.

“So, tell them to come up.”

“Um…” Barton looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “They can’t. There was a _situation_.” He looked at Nick in silent entreaty, and Nick remembered his son’s presence. “They’re in the decontamination suite, and they asked me to get you.”

“Motherf…” Nick cut himself short, seeing the look on Mikel’s face, “…fudger.” He couldn’t bring Mikel down to medical – it was bad enough that he was on site at all. “Are you a big enough boy to stay here by yourself?”

Mikel nodded, but Barton coughed.

“I don’t mind hanging around,” he said, turning to grin at Mikel. “We can hang out, can’t we, buddy?”

Mikel nodded, biting his lip in what Nick realized with amusement was awe. He could see all the things that could possibly go wrong, but this was the best solution for the moment – the only solution in fact.

“Fine,” he said. “But if a single hair on his head is hurt, it’ll be your balls on the line. Understand, Barton?”

Barton nodded and as Nick left the room he heard Barton explaining to Mikel that he liked to play ping pong and that if they were naughty Director Daddy wouldn’t let him play anymore.

Surprisingly, nothing seemed to go horribly wrong. Barton and Mikel had wandered off for lunch by the time he got back from medical leaving a note, written in crayon, pinned to his desk with an arrow. Nick didn’t want to consider _any part_ of that.

Unfortunately, the interviews did not go well.

The first nanny was so overawed by the Hub that she could barely string two words together; the second was far too casual, talking about how Mikki and he would be great pals, how he didn’t believe in discipline, and that kids’ education should be self-directed, ungoverned to nurture their creativity. Man. 

The third seemed promising – she had sensible ideas about discipline at any rate – but then a ceiling tile shifted and Nick saw his son’s eyes peeking down from above him. To say that the nanny didn’t take it well would be an understatement. To be fair, she didn’t say anything to Mikel that Nick wouldn’t say to Barton later, but the effect on the kid was ruinous. By the time Nick had gotten him to stop crying, he knew that his son would not build a rapport with this woman.

The fourth was a known associate of Hydra.

“I thought these had been vetted,” he snarled down the coms link to Hill. “How can they be vetted if even I recognized her? She’s the goddamn butcher of Novosibirsk!”

“Romanov’s looking into it now,” Hill said. “But the best intel suggests that Hydra know you’re looking for a nanny and that the real applicant was killed on her way here.”

“Motherfucker,” Nick said, worried.

“Yeah,” Hill agreed. “This is going to play havoc with recruiting a nanny.”

“Not to mention that if Hydra are daring to send known operatives into the heart of SHIELD, they’re definitely planning something big.”

“That too,” Hill said. “So, what are you going to do now, sir?”

“Gonna call it a day.” He glanced over to where Barton and Mikel were eating pudding cups, seemingly none the worse for their dressing-downs. “I’ll go through the new recruits’ files tonight. See if any of them have any child care experience. If Hydra know about Mikel then we need someone with enough skills that they can keep the kid safe.”

“I’ll get HR to send the files over to you, sir,” Hill said. “Though I gotta tell you sir, I’m not sure we recruit for the ability to look after children.”

oOo

The journey home was full of stories about Barton, and Nick thought he could get heartily sick of the words _Clint says_ over the next few days.

“No,” he said, unplugging Mikel from his car seat. “You can’t be in the circus. I don’t care what Clint did when he was little.”

He hefted Mikel under one arm, the HR files under the other, and dashed through the rain from the car to his door. They’d have to get pizza delivered. There was no fucking way he was cooking tonight.

Of course Mikel squirmed as he was unlocking the front door, and Nick barely made it inside before the files slipped in a landslide from his arms. Mikel used the ensuing chaos to escape, and Nick had just managed to gather the files back into some semblance of order, and was about to head to the kitchen to stop Mikel doing whatever the hell it was he was doing, when there was a knock on the door.

His gun was out before he’d even registered the knock. He let the files drop back to the floor. Through the peephole he could see a middle-aged man in a suit shaking the rain from a large, black umbrella, and, hoping that Mikel would stay in the kitchen and away from the hall, he threw the door open with a bang.

“Who are you? And what do you want?” Nick could feel the anger coiling low in his stomach. The man had barely reacted to the bang of the door opening – whoever he was, he had obviously been sent by one of the other agencies.

“My name is Phil Coulson,” the man said, a half smile on his lips. “And the agency sent me.”

He handed Nick a business card, that Nick didn’t spare a glance for. It was a classic diversionary tactic. Nick was almost insulted that this man thought he’d be taken in by it.

“Which one?” he asked, not even trying to keep the disdain from his voice. “I’da thought that the letter agencies would know better than to send an agent to my home. You think you’re not under surveillance right now?”

“I can assure you, Director, that I’m not from a ‘letter agency’.” (Nick could hear the inverted commas drop neatly into place around the words) “And since it was you who made the request to the agency, neither am I worried about being under surveillance.”

He seemed more amused than frightened or defensive, so Nick risked a glance down at the card. “The Mary Poppins Nanny Agency,” he said. “Super-nannies our specialty? Practically perfect in every way? What in heaven’s name is this shit?”

“Language, Director,” Coulson said, his smile widening slightly. “Little pitchers have big ears, you know.” He was looking pointedly down at Nick’s legs, and there, hiding in a sudden fit of shyness, was Mikel, peeping around at the newcomer.

“Are you my nanny?” Nick had to admit that he wouldn’t blame Coulson for denying all knowledge of nannies at this point and running for the hills. Somehow in the ten minutes Mikel had been alone, he had managed to get coated in a combination of peanut butter and jelly, and looked more like a distressing ambulatory jelly baby than a child at the moment.

Coulson pursed his lips. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I am certainly a nanny, but am I _your_ nanny?” He shook his head slowly. “I was told I had to be a nanny to a little boy, not the minder for a swamp monster.” He looked Mikel up and down. “It takes specialist skills to mind a swamp monster, you know. I’d need hazard pay.”

Mikel giggled. “I’m not a swamp monster, silly! I’m a little boy!”

“Good grief!” Coulson looked down in surprise. “In that case, I am very sorry! You’ve obviously been in a terrible accident and I should summon medical help for you!”

This just made Mikel giggle harder. “Don’t need medicine-elp. Am just sticky.”

“If you’re sure.” Coulson sounded extremely skeptical, but he flashed Nick a grin. “I assume a monster tried to eat you and spat you out because you tasted bad, and you are covered in monster slime?”

“It’s peanut bu’r and jelly!” Mikel shouted, triumphant. “I was making dinner for Daddy!”

Coulson looked thoughtful. “That’s a good plan,” he said, “but you should make Daddy some soup to go with his sandwich, you know.” He raised an eyebrow. “Would you like me to help you?”

“What sort?” asked Mikel, suddenly serious.

“Borscht,” Coulson replied, without missing a beat. “It just so happens that I have the ingredients in my bag here, and it looks enough like monster blood soup that it’ll scare away any swamp monsters that might be watching you and planning to eat you later.”

“Okay,” Mikel said, extending a sticky hand. “You can help me make bort then.”

Coulson took the proffered paw, and picked up his bag from where it had been resting on the stoop. “Do you know that a jar of peanut butter can contain 30 insect fragments?”

“Ew.” Mikel scrunched up his face, considering this. “That’s _cool_. What else do you know?”

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” Coulson said, “otherwise people might think there is no one who cares for you, and while we’re doing that I’ll tell you all about it.”

They headed off down the hall together, leaving Nick baffled in their wake. He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but he’d never seen Mikel take to anyone like that.

He sighed, suddenly exhausted. He’d get the agency and this Phil Coulson checked overnight. In the meantime, he was armed and home and he would get Coulson’s face checked against known operatives before he went to bed.

He had a good feeling though, and he’d learnt from experience to trust his gut. Whoever Phil Coulson was, Nick hoped that he would be the answer he was looking for.

oOo

It turned out that whatever else Coulson was (and the jury was out on that until the vetting process was complete), he wasn’t a known face on any watch list anywhere.

After two days of looking after Mikel with no support, that was good enough for Nick. SHIELD waited for no man, and he needed to get back to the helm.

Besides, if Coulson thought he could do anything to harm Mikel, he would learn the error of his ways quickly and painfully.

Overnight, the already-significant surveillance systems in the house had been doubled, and Widow and Barton had agreed to take shifts watching the house until Coulson had passed his “probationary period”. Admittedly, Nick could have done without Barton’s songs about chimneys, but he’d take help where he could get it these days.

But even with all those precautions, Nick kept a surveillance window open in the corner of his screen to keep an eye on the home front.

It seemed to be going well. Coulson was completely unselfconscious, as if he didn’t have the slightest suspicion he was being watched. He and Mikel made pancakes for breakfast, Mikel mixing the batter and Coulson shaping them into little teddy faces as he cooked them.

They seemed to be getting on just fine, and the kid was all sunshine and smiles, even when Coulson told him they needed to tidy up his room.

Nick was not proud to admit that he smiled about that – the kid had been compliant so far, but he hated tidying up and Nick was looking forward to seeing Coulson’s face when Mikel transformed into a screaming… fury.

Schadenfreude. Not big, not clever, but fucking enjoyable, he decided as he poured himself a fresh mug of coffee and settled back to enjoy the show.

He’d only managed to take one sip though, before Hill came in and the next few hours were taken up by the World Security Council and their stupid-ass power plays.

The coffee was stone cold by the time he got back to his desk, and Coulson had taken Mikel for a walk in the park. If there had been any tantrums about cleaning the room, then they were long over.

Tranquility still ruled when Nick got home – at a reasonable time, even – and the only disruption was when he was nearly knocked over as Mikel barreled out of the kitchen to greet him with hugs.

“Hey there, big man,” Nick said, swinging Mikel up onto his shoulders. “You had a good day?”

“Yes!” Mikel’s voice was full of excitement. “We tidied my room, Daddy, and sang until the toys put themselves away! And we had bear-cakes, and pasgetti, and we fed the ducks and they _talked_ to us!”

“That was a busy day,” Nick said, heading to the kitchen and swinging Mikel down onto his booster seat. “And what did the ducks have to say?”

“They were funny!” Mikel said. “They said they were being chased by a mean old goose, and they wanted Phil to tell them how to make it behave.”

“And what did Phil say?” Nick asked, nodding a greeting to Coulson who was doing something horribly domestic-looking to a vegetable.

“He said they should act as a pack,” Mikel said, reaching for his sippy cup of juice. “He said they had strength of numbers and should col… col…” He stopped and looked at Coulson, pleading with his eyes.

“Collaborate,” Coulson finished for him. “And do you remember what that word means, Mikel?”

“’S.” Mikel nodded seriously. “Means to act together to achieve a goal, like when Daddy and me play jigsaws together and Daddy finds the pieces and I put them together.”

“Well done,” Coulson said. “You’re very good at remembering things.”

“Like talking ducks?” Nick asked, and the corner of Coulson’s mouth quirked up.

“Exactly like that,” he said, popping some carrots into a pan of frying onions. “I’m sure they’ll have no trouble with that goose now.”

“Can we go back tomorrow?” Mikel asked, eyes wide. “Wanna feed the birdies again, an’ find out what happens.”

“Only if you eat all your dinner,” Coulson said. “And go to bed without fussing.”

Mikel nodded solemnly. “I promise,” he said, and the wonder of it was that he kept his word. Coulson vanished after dinner, heading to the room Nick had allocated him with the excuse of checking emails, leaving Nick to preside over the calmest bedtime routine that he’d ever had with Mikel.

“You like Phil?” he asked as he tucked the kid in and kissed his forehead.

“Yes.” Mikel looked really serious. “He’s fun, and he teaches me good words.”

“Like collaborate?”

“Mmmm.” Mikel was a warm, sleepy weight now against Nick’s side. “An’ the ducks were funny.”

“Maybe I can go with you on the weekend?”

“That’d be good.” Mikel snuggled in closer. “But they won’t talk for you.”

“Ah. They only talk for Phil then?”

Mikel made a small snuffly noise, lost to sleep already, and Nick got up as quietly as he could. Coulson was watching him from the doorway, still wearing the suit he’d been wearing all day, a small smile on his lips.

“Tuckered out?” he asked, as Nick gently closed the door.

“Yeah. A day of singing at toys to move them and talking to ducks will do that to a kid.”

Coulson’s mouth twitched, as if he was repressing a snigger. “Mikel’s a good kid,” he said. “Lots of energy and imagination. He just needs to learn how to direct it better.”

“And you think you can help him do that?”

“Why, Director Fury.” Coulson’s smile grew wider. “I think you’ll be _amazed_ at the things I can do when I put my mind to it.”

He brushed past Nick into his room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click, leaving Nick lost for words.

oOo

The last time Nick had had to live with anyone apart from Mikel, he’d been in the army. It wasn’t, as he recalled, the most relaxing experience, and now with Coulson moving in, he did have certain concerns as to whether he’d find it difficult to adapt.

Coulson was a relaxing presence though, and Mikel adored him – he was certainly better behaved – and whatever nebulous fears Nick had receded as he found himself relaxing into a routine of work and family dinners. Hell, Coulson even kept on top of the laundry.

“You don’t need to do this you know,” Nick said over his coffee one morning. “You’re here for Mikel, not me.”

“You’re right,” Coulson said. “It’s a terrible hardship to make coffee for two instead of one, or to iron a couple of shirts extra when I’m doing my own.” He put a spoonful of sugar into his mug and stirred it carefully. “However will I cope?”

“Jackass,” Nick muttered, and Coulson smirked at him before whisking Mikel off for another day of unlikely adventures that would be recounted later.

And Nick had to admit that the timing of Coulson’s arrival couldn’t have been better, because things at SHIELD were more challenging than ever. One day, he thought, Hydra would learn when to stay the fuck down and know they were beaten. It probably wouldn’t be today though, or any time soon.

So, having a home that was a beacon of peace in comparison to work, and knowing the kid was safe and happy made all the difference. And even if he had some questions about Coulson (because seriously? Who wore a suit for child care? No one. That’s who. It wasn’t practical. Except apparently no one had passed Coulson the memo on this. He wore a suit every single day, and didn’t seem to give a fuck what the close fit of it did to Nick’s libido) he was willing to shelve them in favor of appreciating what he had.

He was especially glad of Coulson when it became apparent he was going to be needed on a mission – could be overnight, could be a week – and for the first time since he’d had Mikel his first concern wasn’t child care.

“You sure you’re okay doing this?” he asked. “It’s not what you signed on for.”

It probably wasn’t the best time to ask. He was packed and at the door ready to go – God only knew what he’d do if Coulson changed his mind.

“We’ll be fine.” Coulson smiled at him, unflustered still. “I have the emergency numbers you gave me, and I know what to do if there’s a problem.” He turned to Mikel. “Now, kiss Daddy goodbye.”

Mikel darted up, tackling Nick around the knees and giving him an enthusiastic kiss before Nick passed him over to Coulson.

And even though the operation was a clusterfuck (if there was one thing that really pissed Nick off, it was getting shot) it was strangely comforting to come back to a house that was clean, and full of the smell of baking scones – and to a happy kid.

“Daddy!” Mikel launched himself at Nick, only to be intercepted by Coulson.

“Gentle!” Coulson barked. “You need to be gentle with Daddy at the moment. He’s hurt. Remember what we talked about?”

“Yes.” Mikel nodded seriously, and he clambered out of Coulson’s arms and gave Nick a very gentle hug. “’M glad you’re home, Daddy.”

“And I’m glad to be home,” Nick said, too glad for the moment to wonder how Coulson had known about an injury that most of the team at SHIELD had missed.

It came back to him later, though, after Mikel was asleep and Nick was struggling to change the dressing on his shoulder, and it prompted him to go to Coulson’s room.

He tapped on the door gently, unsure if he actually wanted Coulson to respond or not, but Coulson answered it almost immediately.

“Director.” He raised an eyebrow. “How can I help?”

“There’s a dressing on my shoulder,” Nick said. “I’m meant to change it and clean it, and…”

“You can’t reach it without hurting yourself?” Coulson looked sympathetic as Nick nodded. “Come in.”

He stood to one side and gestured to Nick to enter. It looked …different to how Nick remembered. The once unremarkable room was now thoroughly decorated with everything from a hat stand to a rubber plant, but the most obvious change was…

“That is a lot of Captain America stuff,” Nick said, unsure whether he should be impressed or frightened.

“I’m a fan,” Coulson said, his voice unapologetic. “When I was growing up he stood for courage and normality and all those wholesome _human_ values.” He colored slightly. “Besides, even then I knew I wanted to live in America.”

“You’re not from the States originally?” Nick asked, reminding himself that he still needed to check over Coulson’s vetting report – if Hill had even managed to complete it for him by now.

Coulson shook his head. “My folks were both Brits,” he said, gesturing to a framed photo on his bedside table. “And I spent the first few years of my life over there.”

Nick sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the picture. It was a monochrome photo of a pretty woman, sternly dressed with a flowered hat covering her dark hair. She was staring at the camera with a look of determination on her face, while a tall, dark-haired man, dressed as a chimney sweep, gazed at her with a look of adoration.

“They look like a happy couple.”

“They were.” Coulson started remove the dressing from the wound, hissing when he saw it, and reached for a bag under the bed. He removed a new dressing, some antibiotic cream and wipes. 

“Were?” Nick grimaced as he lay down on the bed to make it easier for Coulson to clean the wound. “They’re dead?”

“My father died when I was fairly young,” Coulson said. “That picture was taken years before they had me, and he was quite old when he died. Mom decided we should make a new start, and she moved over here. It worked for her. She didn’t see ghosts of dad everywhere she looked, and well,” he shrugged. “As you can see the business thrived.”

“The business?” He forced himself to focus on the conversation, to ignore the scent of Coulson’s cologne on his pillow. The alternative was horrifying – and there was no way Nick wanted to consider how long it had been since anyone apart from Mikel had touched him without violence in mind.

“The agency,” Coulson said. “Mom being the original Mary Poppins. She started the agency when she decided that there were too many American children to help by herself, and it felt right for me to follow in her footsteps.” He paused, the habitual half-smile he wore widening into a full grin. “It’s in my blood, and frankly every other profession I tried back when I was fighting the inevitable had a habit of not quite working out.”

“I’d like to hear about that.”

“Tomorrow maybe; you’re all patched up for tonight at least.” Coulson had been working as he talked, gentler than any medical professional who had ever worked on Nick, and he now taped a new dressing over the wound.

“Huh.” Nick grunted, amused despite himself. “Distracting me with stories to make me a good patient.”

“Mom always said that the most miserable task went quicker if you made it fun,” Coulson replied. “Advice I’ve always found applies just as much to adults as it does to children.”

Nick found himself turning the advice over in his mind the next day as he went through the incident reports. _Make it fun_ Coulson had said. He stared at Barton’s report that looked like the proverbial homework the dog had eaten, and wondered if he could explain to Clint how _fun_ it was not to have your kneecaps smashed by a vengeful boss. True, it might not have been what Coulson meant, but then Coulson didn’t have to deal with paperwork-avoidant superspies on a regular basis.

He did remember to check for the vetting report on Coulson and his agency – but Hill had had to pass it to Sitwell after she was called to Bogota to oversee an extraction mission, Sitwell had passed it to Simmons after he came down with the nastiest case of pink-eye medical had ever encountered, and Simmons had managed to destroy the meager work they’d both managed in what appeared to be a freak tornado accident in the lab.

Frankly, by this stage Nick was getting suspicious.

It was enough to make him take the matter into his own hands, and what he found was enough to confirm his suspicions. But he waited through dinner, mostly because Mikel was being an unholy terror, and until Coulson had tricked the kid into falling asleep by singing him a song that instructed him to stay awake.

“You need your dressing changed,” Coulson said, as they crept from Mikel’s room. “And you should probably mention whatever it is you’ve had on your mind all evening.”

“Hummm?” Nick sighed. He shouldn’t be surprised at Coulson’s intuition by now, but he still was. “You mean that I can’t find any record of your mother, or her agency?”

He could feel Coulson’s amusement radiating through his fingertips as he started removing the old dressing.

“Or of me,” Coulson agreed. “And you won’t. So what are you going to do?”

Nick grunted. He hadn’t expected Coulson to admit it like this, and he really should do something. Call SHIELD, interrogate Coulson until he cracked, kiss him, or something.

“Are you going to harm my son?” he asked instead.

Coulson chuckled. “You know I’m not.”

“Will you protect him from harm?”

Coulson’s fingers stilled. “Define _harm_ ,” he said. “I won’t let him sustain any serious injury, and I won’t let an outside agency injure him, but you can’t over-protect children, Director.”

“Are you suggesting I am trying to do so?” Irked, although not sure why, Nick tried to get up, but Coulson pushed him back to the bed with one hand.

“Lie still,” he said, an edge to his voice that Nick hadn’t heard there before. “You’ll tear the stitches open at this rate, and then where will you be?” He waited until Nick relapsed into grumpy silence before he finished dressing the wound. “And in answer to your question, yes. I do think you’ve been over-protective. Understandably, perhaps, but Mikel needs friends of his own age. You can’t be the only person in his life.”

Nick snorted. “I’m not sure where you got that impression from,” he said, “but I think you’ll find that Mikel has plenty of outside contact. He went to preschool…”

“To four preschools,” Coulson replied. “You withdrew him from all four.”

“They excluded him!”

“Really?” Coulson’s voice was wry. “Or did they question his abilities before you removed Mikel?”

“Same damn difference,” Nick muttered. Coulson hadn’t seen the look of judgment in the eyes of those officious SoBs when they’d talked about Mikel’s _abilities_. “Anyway, he has friends.”

“And does he get to see any of them more than twice?” Coulson asked. “Go on sleepovers, perhaps?”

“Dammit, Coulson.” Nick glared over his shoulder. “Do you have any idea how much time it takes to vet the families of _friends_? Who the hell do you think I am?”

“I think you’re a father who loves his child very much,” Coulson said, finishing with the dressing and standing up. “And who wants what’s best for him. I also think you’re a very busy man who sees threats everywhere, because that is all there has been in your life, and who is putting his son’s safety over his happiness.”

“He can’t be happy if he’s dead,” Nick said, sitting up and shrugging his shirt on. “Or a hostage.”

“Agreed,” Coulson said. “But there’s a middle ground.”

“And I’m supposed to let you find that, am I?” Nick asked. “A man with no history, no electronic footprint, no records – a damn ghost?”

“Yes,” Coulson said, as if it was that simple, and strangely Nick did not find himself arguing.

oOo

He tried to make more time for Mikel after that. They went on a picnic to the park, and fed the ducks, and although they didn’t talk to them (at least in any human language) Nick couldn’t help but notice that the sole goose at the pond took one look at Coulson and hid behind the reed bed for the rest of their visit.

The only glitch had been when Mikel got bored of the ducks and ran off to the playground. Coulson had stopped Nick intervening only through a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Leave it,” he said. “We can see him perfectly well from here, and no one’s going to manage to grab him with both of us here.”

Nick had grumbled under his breath, but he’d settled down to watch, and by the time they packed up and went home, he was being forced to consider that Coulson was right, that Mikel did need friends his own age.

He admitted as much on the way home, and he had to give Coulson credit: the man didn’t look smug in the slightest.

“It’s difficult, though,” Nick said. “Even if I find other parents who can provide a suitable environment for Mikel to play in, they just won’t understand why it’s important to keep an eye on him.”

“They don’t know who you are, or who SHIELD is,” Coulson said. “So you can’t explain the risks.”

“Exactly.” Nick frowned. “And if they don’t understand the risks then they can’t take proper precautions.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And it’s not like there’s a support group for single parents in covert operations.”

Coulson grinned. “Maybe you should start one,” he said. “There have got to be other agents at SHIELD who are in a similar position – even if they’re not single parents.”

“SHIELD child care and preschool?” Nick said, the idea bringing a smile to his face. “I can’t see how that could possibly go wrong. We could have a room in the helicarrier for it, and Barton could entertain them with his circus tricks.”

“Worst case scenario is you’d have a class of trainee spies and agents,” Coulson said. “But I was thinking something a little more modest. An after-school club, perhaps, running once a week.”

“That might work,” Nick said. “It’d give them a chance to talk to other kids who have the same restrictions they do…”

“And any friendships that grew out of it would be with people who were already vetted and who understand the threats there are to families,” Coulson finished for him.

“I’d need to get someone in for it,” Nick said. “I can’t imagine agents would be comfortable if I was there.”

Coulson smiled. “I could bring Mikel,” he said, “if you think you’d intimidate the other parents, but I would think that something like this would be best if it was parent-led. After all, it would be useful for them to have a support network of parents who can relate to what they go through as well.”

“And it’d get HR off my back,” Nick said, a light dawning at the end of a paperwork-filled tunnel. “They’re always going on about that work-life balance bulls…”

Coulson elbowed him in the ribs.

“…plop,” he finished, as if that had been what he’d been going to say all along.

“Did you say a rude word, Daddy?” In the rear-view mirror he saw Mikel look up from the toy snake he’d been playing with, and he could feel Coulson radiating smugness next to him.

“No,” he said, clinging to the half-truth. “I used an accurate description, that’s all.”

It seemed to be enough for the kid and he lapsed back into playing his game, but Nick could swear he heard Coulson snigger.

oOo

Not surprisingly, HR leaped at the plan, and though Nick steered well clear, he heard that the event had gone surprisingly well.

“Not a word,” he told Coulson when he got home.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Coulson said, taking something out of the oven. “But you might be interested to know that Mikel is having a play date on Saturday.”

Nick grunted, feigning disinterest as he peered at the casserole dish. Whatever it was, it was topped with an enticing layer of toasted cheese.

“It’s with Susie,” Coulson said, rapping Nick’s knuckles with a spatula. “Her mother works in translation services, and she’s coming over here, and you’ll burn your fingers if you keep poking at the lasagna.”

Nick glared at him with as much dignity as he could muster with burnt fingers and went to check on Mikel before dinner.

He found him, crouched on the floor of his bedroom, sheets of paper spread in front of him and an array of pastels and chalks at his side.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, sitting on the floor next to Mikel.

“Drawin’ pictures,” Mikel said. “From our visit today.”

“Right,” Nick said, picking up one of the pictures to look at. It was a fairly good picture of a seascape in which there was a castle made out of coral and an octopus wearing a cape. “This one is good.”

“That’s Phil’s,” Mikel said. “It’s the one he used to get us there.”

“Where? To the castle?”

Mikel nodded and kept drawing. He was working on a picture of what looked like the same octopus wearing a crown.

“And what happened?”

Mikel looked up, excitement written all over his face. “There was a ‘bellion,” he said, “and some mantis shrimps were taking over the castle, but then Phil fought them off, and I tripped them up, and the octopus et them and the sea nurchins leccted him king.”

“That sounds exciting.” Nick put the picture down. “What did you do then?”

“Cakes,” Mikel said, seriously. “An’ jelly.”

“Ah. So you won’t be hungry for dinner then?”

“That’d be a shame,” Coulson said from the doorway. “I made lasagna, just like you asked.”

“Really?” Mikel’s face lit up. “An’ salad?”

“Would I cheat you of salad?” Coulson asked. “That’s the best bit.”

“I am hungry, Daddy,” Mikel said. “Can I have dinner?”

“Well,” Nick said, stroking his chin. “I suppose that under the sea was a long way away, and you might be hungry after fighting all those shrimp.”

“Excuse me, Director,” Coulson said, puffing himself up with a look of offended dignity that was completely at odds with the laughter in his eyes. “But I’d thank you to keep a respectful tongue in your head. Mantis shrimp are no laughing matter.”

“I would think not,” Nick said. “I’m surprised that you managed to defeat them all on your own, Phil. How did you do it?”

“Trade secret,” Coulson said. “But I wasn’t on my own. Mikel was a very able assistant.”

“That’s my boy,” Nick said, pride seeping into his tone despite the ridiculous story. “I knew he’d find a niche for his skills.”

“Exactly,” Coulson said. “Now, wash your hands, both of you. Dinner’s on the table.”

oOo

In the end Nick decided that it had been going too well. That was bound to cause a problem. Oh, sure, he could run a top secret agency that secured the world against the threat of alien invasion; he could twist the World Security Council’s words until they agreed with him and thought it was their own decision; he could even face down the finance department and get them to sign off on the overtime bill every month.

What he wasn’t so good at was that whole _interpersonal_ thing. Yeah, people fucked things up every time.

So, he had dinner, gave Mikel his bath and put him to bed, and kissed Coulson. Obviously. It was almost inevitable – there were only so many ways to fuck up when you were at home at 10pm on a school night after all.

And the thing was, to begin with, he’d had the vague hope that he hadn’t screwed up. Coulson had responded. Oh sure, he’d made a surprised noise into Nick’s mouth, but then he’d brought his hands up and held Nick’s face as he’d kissed him back, and for a glorious second, Nick thought he might have made the right choice.

And then Coulson had pushed Nick back.

“Sorry,” he said, looking more serious than Nick had ever seen him. “I can’t.” He hesitated for a second, looking unsure, and Nick thought that he might explain, but he’d just touched Nick’s face gently before heading to his room.

Frankly, he expected Coulson to quit, was surprised when he didn’t, when everything was as normal as usual the next morning.

Coulson was his normal friendly self. He played with Mikel, brought him on his play date and taught him a ridiculous song about kites that ended up with the three of them spending the weekend on a blustery hillside, Mikel laughing until tears streamed down his cheeks.

He even treated Nick the same, making dinner and doing the laundry, and all the other little things that made Nick’s life so much easier. And, blessing of blessings, he either didn’t notice or pretended not to see the way Nick still watched him.

In fact, Nick was hoping that the entire incident had been forgotten about when Coulson asked for a couple of days off.

“Goddammit,” Nick snarled, trying to ignore the clench of fear in his belly. “You can’t go around having days off all the time.”

Coulson just raised an eyebrow. “Because I’ve had so much time off up till now,” he said. “I even take a whole seven hours to myself to sleep every single day.”

“What choo arguing bout?” Mikel asked, looking up from his game of Star Wars versus the dinosaurs. “Is everyone angry?”

Coulson smiled and shook his head. “No, Mikel,” he said. “Your Daddy is just being unreasonable.”

“And Coulson is being an ass,” Nick muttered, causing Mikel to frown.

“Why are you an ass, Phil?” he asked.

“Because I want two days off,” Coulson said, as if it was a reasonable fucking request. “And your Daddy can’t accept that people might have lives that don’t center around him.”

“Oh.” Mikel digested the news with a serious look on his face. “But you’ll come back? After your days off?”

“Of course!” Coulson sounded surprised, like the thought of permanently leaving had never even occurred to him, and Nick felt his tension start to dissolve. “How could I leave you? You’re my right-hand man.”

“Your lootenny,” Mikel agreed seriously. “You should let him have a jolly holiday, Daddy.”

“I shoulda known that you’d gang up on me,” Nick grumbled, but there wasn’t any force behind it any more. “And what am I meant to do with you while he’s away?”

“I can come to work with you?” Mikel sounded hopeful. “P’raps Clint will tell me stories while you’re busy, Daddy.”

“It’s two days,” Coulson said, seeing the look of horror on Nick’s face. “I’ll be back by the weekend.”

“Do you have any idea how much he could have learned from Barton by then?” Nick asked.

“Gonna make him show me how to trapeze,” Mikel said. “Or how to be a spy. What d’you think is best, Phil?”

“Well,” Coulson looked pensive. “Being a trapeze artist sounds like fun, but you’d have to be super still and quiet to be a spy. It might be too hard for you, because you’re very little.” He nodded. “You’d probably better do the trapeze thing.”

Mikel’s face turned mulish. “I’m not too little to be a spy,” he said. “I can so do it.”

“Really?” Coulson sounded skeptical. “Are you sure?” Mikel nodded fiercely and Coulson smiled. “Well, in that case maybe you should be a spy on a super-secret mission while I am away?”

“Yes!” Mikel looked delighted. “I can be super-secret quiet while I am at work with Daddy, and all his agents will be mazed!”

Coulson raised an eyebrow at Nick, and he sighed. “Fine,” he said, gruffly. “Have your time off, and you,” he leveled a finger at Mikel. “I’ll be grading you on how well you do, so you’d better be the best superspy I’ve ever seen.”

And that was how he ended up with Mikel sat in his office, holding a potted plant (“Cammyflage, Daddy,” he’d been told when he asked), but overall being surprisingly quiet.

It was just one more thing he had to thank Coulson for, he realized as a beaming director from the World Bank first gave Mikel a lesson on financial institutions and then five dollars to invest wisely.

Unfortunately though, not all of Mikel’s good behavior could stop the people of the world acting like fucking idiots and Nick was already expecting the worst when Hill threw the door open with a bang.

“Hydra,” she said. “They’re attacking.”

“Motherfuckers.” Nick was on his feet, ready to go shoot his share of idiot goons, before he remembered Mikel.

Hill must have seen where he was looking. “Not a chance,” she said. “My Sister Suffragette ancestors didn’t chain themselves to railings just so I could do the child-care thing, so don’t even suggest it, _sir_.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Nick lied. “Come on, kid. You’re up. Time for a practical lesson in being a superspy.”

“Goody!” Mikel dropped his plant in excitement, and Nick crouched down so they were nose to nose.

“I need you to be a watch-spy,” he said. “So, you’re gonna be quiet and stay hidden when I tell you to, right?”

Mikel nodded. “I know how to do that,” he said, with all the seriousness of a four-year-old. “Phil made me practice before. He said that if there were bad people, I was to hide, and watch, and to remember everything I could so I could tell him or you after.”

“Really?” Nick blinked, surprised despite himself. “What else did Phil tell you?”

“I should run away,” Mikel said, clearly remembering a lesson he’d been taught, “an’ leave the fighting to Phil or Daddy. That if they catch me, I don’t haveta play nice, and I can bite an’ scratch an’ pull their hair ‘til they drop me. That we all have different superpowers and my one is hiding for now.” Mikel looked sulky. “An’ I only get fun powers when I get big.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nick said. “Being invisible is fairly damn cool.”

“Yeah?” Mikel looked a little mollified, and Nick nodded.

“And you get super-speed. That’s cool as well. I wish I had super-speed.”

“But you get to fight.” Mikel looked petulant. “I want to fight too.”

“Yeah.” Nick gathered the kid into a crushing hug. “You’ll get to do that when you’re bigger. And you might find out that it isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.”

Hydra were, as always, painfully fucking predictable. The problem was they were also effective with it. Throwing a load of goons at a problem was more blunt force than Nick was willing to countenance (he would always prize skill over weight of numbers) but given the element of surprise, it was going to take a concerted effort to get them out of SHIELD – and Nick was concerned about what they had raided the Hub for.

So far they hadn’t attacked the systems, and seemed to be making for the archives (as if everything of power wasn’t stored off-site for fuck’s sake. Did they think he was some kind of fucking amateur?) but that was no guarantee that this initial strike wasn’t a diversion, and they would make their raid on the systems while Nick’s agents were distracted with defending the few artifacts they did have on site.

At least Mikel was following Coulson’s advice – and wasn’t that just one more thing Nick had Coulson to thank for – but he would have much preferred if he could have freed up an agent to keep an eye on the kid.

“Does this belong to you, Director?” Barton appeared holding a woebegone Mikel. “Only I found it wrapped around Sitwell’s head, trying to bite him.”

“Dammit.” Nick held out his arms and Mikel clambered off Barton. “I don’t suppose…”

“No can do.” Barton shrugged at him. “Someone had the bright idea to let the junior agents go on a training course, so it’s all hands on deck right now.”

“Funny,” Nick said, deadpan as he swung Mikel onto his shoulders. “And you know how I love to laugh.” Barton shuffled his feet and Nick turned his attention to Mikel. “Think you can avoid attacking any of my agents while we go sort things out?”

“He captured me!” Mikel was indignant. “I did what Phil said!”

“And it’s good advice,” Nick said, because it _was_ , “and I will tell him when we see him again.”

“You’ve mislaid the nanny?” Barton asked, and Nick sighed.

“Yeah,” he said. “He’s taken a few days off.” He shook his head. “A man has dreams, you know, about a life that isn’t wrecked by people who trail chaos in their wake, and who don’t have a fucking cell-phone so I couldn’t call them, even if we could get the kid out.”

“Is tha’ Phil?” Mikel asked. “Cuz I can call him. He showed me how.”

“Now you tell me?” Nick scowled up at his son. “Barton, get down there and keep things going. I’m gonna try and get someone to take care of this monster.”

He wasn’t hopeful that they’d reach Coulson, much less that Coulson would be able to actually help, and whatever tiny hope he’d had vanished into nothing when Mikel pulled out a grubby bit of chalk from his pocket and ran towards the nearest wall.

“Is this an excuse to vandalize my office?” he asked, and Mikel burst into tears.

“No, Daddy. It’s how I can call Phil.”

The kid looked so goddam earnest that Nick didn’t have the heart to stop him, so he just waited till he finished drawing a fish onto the bottom of the wall.

“Fetch Phil,” he told it sternly. “I need him.”

He looked expectantly at the fish, then up at Nick like he’d achieved something.

“Now what?” Nick asked.

“I have to wait,” Mikel. “Patient-like. So the fish can find Phil.”

“Right.” Nick glanced at the static drawing of the fish. “So, how about I leave you here with the fish to wait for Phil to turn up?”

Mikel nodded. “And I can bring him to find you when he gets here?”

“Yeah.” The conference room was probably one of the safest places in the hub right now – there was nothing here that Hydra could want, even if they got this far. “Just keep low, okay?”

He locked the door behind him anyway. It wouldn’t deter a serious attack, but hopefully the room looked generic enough to avoid casual interest.

He made a point of checking in on the kid though. The attack was significant enough that they were taking it seriously, but it was unlikely that they’d manage to take anything of any value. Barton had even gone so far to say that it was a decent training exercise before he’d been clipped around the back of the head by May who took a dim view on the subject of tempting fate.

Despite his fears, the door was still locked when he got back, which meant that the idiot goons hadn’t managed to make it this far yet, but Nick halted, his hand on the door, as he heard voices inside.

“You remember our lessons?” a man’s voice said, and Nick glanced inside to confirm that yes, somehow despite everything, it was Coulson.

“Yes.” Mikel sounded a bit unsure. “But when I attacked someone that found me, it was a friendly friend person, and I think Daddy is mad at me now.”

Coulson sighed. “We’ve talked about this,” he said, and Nick heard him sitting down on the floor next to Mikel. “What did we say about when Daddy was busy?”

“That it might be dangerous,” Mikel said, immediately. “An’ I should be good, and not make him extra problems that might get him hurt.”

“Well done,” Coulson said. “And what else?”

“That he loves me. Even when he’s cross. And he just wants me to be safe.”

“Exactly.” Nick could hear the smile in Coulson’s voice. “Now, what did you do wrong when you got caught before?”

“Saw Clint,” Mikel said, “an’ waved at him.”

“And they didn’t know you were there till then?”

“Nope. But when I waved the baldy one jumped and dragged me up, and I was scared so I bit him.”

“And what should you have done?”

“Should have watched Clint before I waved to see if he was ’lone or with a bad guy. Should have observed him proper.”

“Yes,” Coulson said. “And now you know better for next time, yes?”

“Yes,” Mikel said. “Is Daddy still angry with me?”

“I don’t know,” Coulson said. “Maybe you should ask him.” He glanced back over his shoulder to where Nick was waiting by the door. “I take it we’re in lockdown, Director?”

“Yes.” Nick pushed his way into the room, and gathered Mikel into a rough hug. “I’m not angry with you, kid, and you,” he glared at Coulson. “Don’t imagine we won’t be having words later about how you got into the Hub while it’s locked down.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Phil sounded sincere, but there was a smirk on his lips and Nick knew they would have no such conversation. “But since I am here now, you have no objection if I make myself useful?”

He reached up and hit the air-vent in the middle of the conference room with the handle of his umbrella. It sprang open and Barton tumbled out in a sprawl of limbs that righted itself mid-fall, letting him land on his feet like a cat.

“The nanny?” he said to Nick. “Gotta say, sir, he’s not what I was expecting.”

“And you’d be Barton,” Coulson said. “Mikel has talked about you at length.”

Barton nodded at him, but Nick could see the wariness still in his eyes. “I came to find you, Director. We think they’re after some of the hard copy personnel files.”

He stopped, obviously unwilling to say any more in front of an external person, and Nick nodded. The only files Barton could be referring to were those relating to Operation Find-Captain-America, which was worrying in itself – no one was even meant to know the operation existed.

“Understood.” He turned to Coulson. “l need you to look after Mikel while I deal with this.”

“Of course.” Coulson looked unperturbed at the directive. “Would it be best to stay here?”

“We made a makeshift base on the second floor,” Barton said. “They’d be safe enough there, and we could keep an eye on them.”

“Just do it,” Nick said, passing the kid over to Coulson, too focused on his concerns about Hydra to even be appropriately relieved that Phil had not left forever. “I’m gonna head down to the file room and deal with the problem there.”

“Sure thing.” Barton grinned. “Come on, junior trainee-agent Fury and Super Nanny. Step in time.”

oOo

It was like Coulson’s arrival had cleared his mind. Knowing the kid was in capable hands made it much easier to concentrate on teaching the goons a lesson they wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Of course, the majority of them would need to believe in reincarnation to fully benefit from that lesson, but that wasn’t Nick’s fucking problem. They should have known what they were getting into when they listened to whatever idiot boss had decided that mounting a raid on SHIELD was a good idea.

In any case, it took less than an hour to shut down the attack and round up the stragglers, then it was all over but the shouting and the body bags.

Nick went to check on the few injured agents in medical – Ward had been grazed by a bullet and Sitwell was getting the scratches on his head treated – and then headed down to find Mikel and Coulson.

They weren’t in the temporary base area, but it was late enough now that Mikel had probably needed food and a nap, especially after all the excitement of the day, and Romanov had been hunting down confirmation on a last Hydra agent before lockdown was lifted.

There was no sign of them in the canteen, though Barton had obviously been there judging by the pot of freshly brewed coffee. Nick filled a mug for Coulson, adding cream and sugar automatically before realizing with a shock that he had somehow memorized how the nanny took his fucking coffee.

Slightly disgusted with himself, he poured himself a mug and headed towards the conference room.

“Got coffee,” he said, using his shoulder to open the door. “You take one su…”

He broke off as the missing goon struck him on the temple with the butt of his rifle. Dazedly, and with blood streaming down his face, he saw Coulson, tied to a chair, his lips split open and face horrifically bruised.

There was no sign of Mikel though – Nick registered that as he was forced to his knees at gun point, and despite the savage beating Coulson had obviously sustained, he was still wearing that familiar half smile.

“It’s about time you joined us, _Director_.” The goon wasn’t alone, and his accomplice’s voice was cold and mocking. “I thought you would be more solicitous of your boyfriend’s wellbeing – especially since you took such care to bring him into the Hub for safekeeping.”

Hope dawned in Nick’s chest when Coulson nodded his head infinitesimally. So, Hydra didn’t know that Mikel was here or what Coulson’s role really was. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“If you think I would put my partner above the welfare of the organization than you have no idea who I am,” Nick said.

“Oh, I know who you are. I just wondered if he thought he was worth more to you than a cheap fuck.”

The voice was familiar, and Nick squinted up at the woman, trying to clear the blood from his vision.

“Valentina,” he said. “How charming to see you again.”

His voice was light, but his stomach twisted with dread. Of course it would have to be Valentina de Fontaine. She was the picture perfect slighted ex – and seriously, was Hydra collecting the complete set or something? Nick still had occasional nightmares about them all bonding over a shared disgust of him – but she knew far too much about the whole Cap thing for Nick to believe that this was a coincidence.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she said, sneering at Nick. “I do so love to catch up with you.” She stalked across to Coulson and took his face in her hand. “Did you think you were something special? That he’d give a shit if you get beaten because of him?” She laughed coldly. “He won’t. Trust me on that. You’re wasting your loyalty if you give it to him. I’ll give you one more chance – tell me what you know about Captain America and I’ll let you walk out of here.”

“You really need to work on your interrogation technique,” Coulson said calmly as if he wasn’t covered in blood. “You’re threats are overblown, your information is incomplete; I would have expected more from Hydra.”

“A pity.” She hit him backhand across the face, sending a spray of blood across the room and rocking him back on the chair. “I’d hoped you’d have more sense.”

Coulson grinned at her, his face feral under the blood.

“And I’d hoped that if I were captured, it would be by someone with half a clue,” he said. “We don’t always get what we want.”

She hit him again, but Coulson shouted “Now” as the blow hit, and Mikel pulled open the grating of the air vent and launched Coulson’s umbrella at the woman like it was a javelin.

She turned, arm raised to deflect the projectile, and Coulson used her distraction to kick out, hitting her squarely in the kneecaps with enough force to dislocate them.

Nick didn’t hesitate. He reached over his shoulder and grabbed the barrel of the rifle, pulling it down so that the shot hit the floor of the conference room rather than Coulson’s chest. Keeping his grip, he surged to his feet, swinging the gun like a baseball bat and catching the guard behind him across the side of the head with enough force to send him slumping to the floor.

There was a crash behind him and he turned around in time to see Coulson pull himself free of the broken chair to deliver a roundhouse kick to Valentina’s head.

“Where the fuck did you learn to fight like that?” he snarled. “They sure as hell didn’t cover that at nanny school.”

Coulson shrugged and stepped over Valentina’s prone body. “You haven’t taught preschool,” he said, his voice still utterly calm as he reached up and caught Mikel as he clambered down from the vent, “or you would never say that.”

“Like fuck,” Nick said, then stopped as Mikel pointed at him.

“Daddy said a swear,” he said. “He said f…”

“I know exactly what Daddy said.” Coulson looked sternly at Mikel. “And there is absolutely no need to repeat it.”

“But Daddy…”

“Has had a bad day, and is sorry he said a swear, isn’t that right, Director?”

“Yes,” Nick said, looking seriously at his son. “I’m sorry, Mikel.”

“Nope.” Mikel shook his head solemnly. “You have to say sorry to Phil.”

“Really?” Nick sighed. “I’m sorry for using a swear, Phil.”

“I should hope so too.” Under the blood and dirt on his face Coulson’s eyes gleamed. “Now, is the lockdown over? It is well past your bedtime, young man.”

“Eh,” Nick said as the door banged open and Romanov and May burst in. “They can deal with the rest. We’re going home.”

It should have been the easy part. Mikel should have gone to bed, and Nick should have been able to do something productive – incident reports, or calling Hill, or maybe even talking to Coulson about the million things that kept going around in his head – but Mikel flatly refused to cooperate.

“Phil is _hurt_ ,” he said seriously when Nick told him to go to bed. “An’ we should make him better first of all.”

“No, I’m fine,” Coulson said, looking flustered for the first time since Nick had known him. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“Silly face,” Mikel said. “You can’t go around all dirtied up and hurty. People will think there is no one who cares for you.”

Coulson’s face twisted into something complicated. “I’m not sure that’s app…”

“Coulson.” Nick held up a hand to him. “No one is challenging your role of super nanny, and no one is suggesting that you can’t look after yourself, but please. You’re covered in blood and probably injured – let us look after you.”

“I shouldn’t,” Coulson said. “I…”

“…should suffer by yourself?” Nick fixed him with a look. “That’s bullshit, Phil.”

His shoulders sagged and he smiled, tight and pained but it was still there. “Well,” he said. “If you’re going to pull out the big guns and use my first name, then I guess I have to let you both do your worst.”

Mikel crowed in triumph, and led Phil by the hand to his bedroom. “You should put your pyjamamamas on,” he said, solemnly. “Like you make me do when I’m poorly bad.” He looked around at Phil’s room. “Cool. Do you have Captain America ‘jamas as well?”

“Yes,” Phil said, glaring at Nick as if daring him to make something of it. “But I should have a shower first. Your Daddy’s right, I am still covered in blood.”

“We can help!” Mikel said. “Shall I get my duckie?”

“No.” Phil smiled at him gently. “I’m fine doing that by myself.”

Mikel frowned. “In that case,” he said, “we will make you a hot chocolate, won’t we, Daddy?”

“Yes.” Nick manhandled Mikel over his shoulder before the kid could attack Phil any more. “I think Phil’s even earned some marshmallows.”

“And whipped cream,” Mikel agreed.

It turned out that Phil did actually have Captain America pajamas, although to Mikel’s great disappointment they were a very sedate affair. Unless you knew their secret, you would presume they were just a pair of blue cotton pajamas. It was only because Nick was looking carefully that he noticed the shield on the breast pocket.

“Something amusing?” Phil asked wryly, and Nick shook his head.

“You’re the only man I know who’d wear a suit to bed,” he said. “I don’t know why I was expecting anything else.”

“I dread to ask what you were expecting,” Phil said. “Is that hot chocolate for me, Mikel?”

Mikel nodded, and held out the slightly messy mug, but Nick stopped him. “We need to get Phil’s face patched up,” he said. “See where he has all those cuts? They need to be covered over.”

“So he needs Band-Aids?” Mikel asked. “Shall I get my shark ones for him?”

“That’d be a good idea,” Nick said, waiting till he scampered off. “You’re not going to listen to me if I say you need to get stitches, are you?”

Phil shook his head. “Butterfly stitches will do.”

“Thought so.” Nick grinned as Mikel ran back into the room, holding out his Band-Aids. “Now, be a good boy, Mikel, and hold these out for me while I clean up Phil’s face, okay?”

Mikel nodded, his tongue poking out with the effort of concentrating, as he held out a range of different sized bandages. Nick smeared antiseptic cream on each abrasion, covering them where necessary with a bandage, until Phil looked like some sort of underwater exhibit.

“There you go,” he said standing back. “Now give Phil his hot chocolate.”

“Into bed first,” Mikel said seriously.

Phil complied, and though he looked like he was struggling to keep a straight face, he let Mikel tuck him in and hand him his mug.

“Do you need a story?” Mikel asked. “Daddy tells the best stories.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” said Phil, who had somehow managed to get cream on his nose. “I’m quite sleepy now, and you should go to bed.”

Mikel didn’t look happy, but he stood on tiptoe and kissed Phil goodnight. Nick hesitated for a second by the door.

“You’ll come to work with me tomorrow?” he asked. “I’ve got something I’d like to show you.”

Phil nodded, and Nick smiled as he pulled the door closed behind him. He wasn’t sure he was making the right decision, but right now it definitely seemed like the best choice.

oOo

It turned into a bit of a family outing the next day. Mikel in particular didn’t seem to want to let Phil out of his sight, so they made their way into the Hub together.

It was a vastly different scene to the day before.

With all the Hydra agents incapacitated or incarcerated and the worst of the mess cleared up, most of the agents had gone home or to the dorms. Only a hard core were left, sitting on the conference room table drinking coffee.

Nick bit back his smile – it would never do to let them see his human side after all. You’d be hard pressed to find a more lethal group of humans than this, but for the moment they were loose-limbed and relaxed. Barton had dozed off, his head on Romanov’s lap; Sitwell and May were chatting in low voices, while Simmons and Fitz seemed to be running some sort of experiment on Barton’s feet. It was nothing to worry about – not if Romanov’s peaceful expression was anything to go by, but Nick cleared his throat, waiting until they had noticed him before he ushered Mikel and Phil into the room.

“You know everyone?” he asked, and Phil nodded.

“I met most of them yesterday,” he said. “They kept an eye on me and Mikel while you were busy.”

“But it was dangerous yesterday,” Mikel said, looking pleadingly up at Phil. “And I was being good.”

“Your point is?” Phil didn’t seem to be trying to hold back his smile – he even waggled his eyebrows at Mikel.

“Do the measuring tape!” Mikel said, tugging at Phil’s arm.

“You’ll have to ask the agents,” Phil said. “They’re very tired and might not want to be measured.”

“Clint will,” Mikel said. “Won’t you, Clint?”

“Humm?” Barton opened one eye, sleepily. “What now?”

“You’ll let Phil measure you, won’t you?” Mikel put on his most puppydog expression and Barton sighed.

“I’m not going to get any peace until I say yes, am I?” he said, dragging himself to his feet. “C’mon then. The world’s greatest marksman is at your service.”

Phil reached into his pocket and pulled out a measuring tape.

“Foolhardy,” he said, running the holding the tape at the top of Barton’s head and letting it drop down to the floor, “but brave.” He measured the length of Barton’s left arm. “Loyal to a fault.” Ran it around his chest. “Clever, but likes to hide it.” He measured Barton’s nose. “A brilliant strategist, but mouthy.”

“Cool.” Barton’s eyes lit up. “Though I’m not sure I like the foolhardy thing.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Phil said. “Now, who’s next?”

“Do Tasha,” Barton said, a wicked grin on his face. “I’ve always wanted to know her measurements.”

“I can tell them from here,” Phil said. “Deadly and secretive.”

“Oh, come on!” Barton pouted. “You can’t tell from there.”

“If I may?” Phil extended his hand to Romanov, a curiously courtly gesture, and she gave him a small smile and rose from the table with the grace of a dancer.

Phil reached out and ran the measuring tape around her wrist.

“See?” he said. “Secretive and deadly.”

Barton snorted with disbelief and checked the measuring tape. “I don’t know how you’re doing this,” he said. “But it’s not funny.”

“Oh, I think it is,” Nick said. “Take your medicine like a good boy, Barton.” He smirked at the archer. “You know, you might have done a lot better with a nanny yourself.”

Barton pulled a face, then paused as a thought obviously struck him. “Hey, nanny-guy. Why don’t you measure the Director?”

Nick froze. “You’re out of your supercalifragilisticexpialidocious mind,” he said. “And do not think that my son being here means I won’t end you, Barton.”

Barton paused, staring at Nick like he’d never seen him before. “Did you just make up a swear word?” he said. “Director, are we witnessing a linguistic launch here?”

Nick didn’t blush – but only because he had trained himself out of the habit. “Phil suggested that I improve my language around the kid,” he said. “And it’s not a swear word – it’s a nonsense word.”

Barton looked at him for another long second before he dissolved into hopeless giggles. “Oh, sir,” he said. “Of course it’s a fucking swear word. How can it be anything else the way you say it?”

Nick glared at him, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. “Pull yourself together,” he said. “You’re on babysitting duty.” He laughed at the look on Barton’s face. “May, make sure he doesn’t do anything awful to my son, would you? I’ll be back in half an hour.”

He paused to see May nod before he led Phil from the room.

“I’ve got someone else for you to measure,” he said. “Could do with your judgment on him.”

Phil nodded, but didn’t ask any of the questions that Nick was expecting as he led him through the corridors of SHIELD.

“I don’t need to tell you,” Nick said, pausing outside a vault, “that what you are about to see is highly confidential. I shouldn’t really be bringing even you here.”

“Then why are you?” Phil asked, and Nick shrugged, pulling the door open.

“Because I think he could do with a nanny as well.”

Phil froze at the door to the vault.

“Is that…?” he started, his voice reverent.

“Yes,” Nick said. “It’s Steve Rogers.”

“But how?” Phil looked like a kid in a candy store. “Surely he died?”

“Not quite,” Nick said. “His plane crashed, but the serum seems to have kept him in a state of suspended animation. We’re hoping he’ll wake up soon.” He looked at Phil. “I was being serious, you know. He’ll need someone to help him adjust when he does wake up. The world has changed since he crashed, and he won’t have anyone to turn to.”

Phil looked at Nick blankly. “Are you asking me to join SHIELD?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“I’m a nanny, Nick, not an agent.” Phil’s voice was an urgent whisper, as if he was scared he’d wake Captain America if he raised it.

“You fight like an agent,” Nick said. “And you told me you hadn’t wanted to end up in your mother’s firm.”

Coulson glanced at the sleeping form in the vault before looking back at Nick. “But what about Mikel?”

“He can start preschool again,” Nick said. “And he has friends now, and after school activities. And…” he took a step closer to Phil. “I was hoping that you would still be part of his life.”

He took hold of Phil’s shoulder and kissed him, carefully, as if trying not to frighten him.

It was a chaste kiss, just a brush of lips really, but he could feel Phil shudder as he took hold of Nick’s wrist.

“I told you – I can’t,” Phil said, his thumb rubbing circles on the ball of Nick’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Can’t,” Nick said, pressing a kiss to Phil’s jaw. “That’s not the same as _don’t want to_.”

“No,” Phil said. “It isn’t.”

“So?”

“I saw what happened with my mom and dad. It doesn’t end well when one of our kind tries to live a normal life.” Phil sounded so tired, so _hurt_ that Nick slid an arm around his waist to support him.

“I can understand that,” he said, “I guess. But…” he put his finger under Phil’s chin and raised his face, “what part of my life seems to be fucking normal?”

“There is that,” Phil said, and Nick could feel some of the tension ebb from his body.

“So, give it a chance,” he said. “Be an agent. Be my partner. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You had to say that,” Phil said. “You had to tempt fate, didn’t you?”

But he didn’t pull away. Instead he leaned into Nick, and Nick knew that this would work out.

“All the best things are worth tempting fate for,” he said, kissing Phil again.

“And I’m a best thing?” Phil asked, smiling against Nick’s mouth.

“Phil Coulson,” Nick tightened his hold. “You’re practically fucking perfect.”

And it turned out that the curve of Phil’s smile against his lips felt exactly like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear The_Lionheart, I hope this satisfies your desire for Phil/Nick and kidfic. I am fairly sure that when you enthused about AUs, this was not quite what you had in mind, and I sadly missed out the tentacles (>.> \- there is space here for an outtake. I AM JUST SAYING), but you did get Mikel, so that is something!


End file.
